SOUNDS LIKE OLDER AGE! LIKE PARTS OF ME ARE BECOMING…NO MORE “SEVENS AND THREES” IRISH DANCING FOR ME! 😦
Tread lightly on my broken wings,
Now pitiful but once were proud;
Speak softly to my cobwebbed lips,
Now buttoned-up but once were loud.
Sing gently to my crippled feet
Now hobbling on uneven ground;
Hold firmly to my troubled hands
Now trembling as I look around.
And whisper of the dreams I touched
With wings that dared to fly so high
And whisper of the songs I sung
With lips that beckoned forth the sky
And how I danced with nimble feet
And painted sunsets near divine,
And how the years have not been lost
But fermented like precious wine.
2019 © Sonya Annita Song
Many thanks to those who participated in the Prompt: Broken Wings. I am always amazed at the creativity, variety, and quality of responses. You have all inspired me. 🙂